Craddock
““We should get out of here now!”
Craddock glanced back. “We’re men of duty, aren’t we? Doesn’t duty come first?”
Helplessly, the curate dropped his head into his hands. Terror was overwhelming him again, but there was nowhere he could run to … not on his own. Craddock, meanwhile, had reached the top of the crypt-steps. He peered down. Fiery shadows flickered beyond the stone arch at the bottom. He could hear a heavy scraping of stone, the further clinks of tools – and Jemima Corelli’s voice.
“Get your backs into it!” she shrieked.
Craddock tripped silently down. He heard a man’s voice, also raised: “You might pay the wages, missus, but you’d best learn how to talk to people!”
Craddock came down off the last step and peeked into the vaulted undercroft. He took everything in at a single glance. From the cleft in the far wall of the east chamber, the woman’s two remaining henchmen had hauled out an oblong casket, made from what looked like heavy slabs of slate.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
8 / 10
9 / 10
User Reviews: